


What Happened on the Road to Lima, Ohio

by Aki_Aiko



Series: Domestic [7]
Category: Glee
Genre: Forced Drug Use, Kidnapping, M/M, Molestation, dark!Karofsky
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-22
Updated: 2014-05-22
Packaged: 2018-01-26 03:22:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,545
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1672829
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aki_Aiko/pseuds/Aki_Aiko
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>How it all started.  Domestic 'verse.</p>
            </blockquote>





	What Happened on the Road to Lima, Ohio

**Author's Note:**

> This is very AU from the show in that I've got Kurt staying at Dalton through scholarships and this takes place the first week of his senior year. I'm assuming Furt happened in the middle of his sophomore year (the show's so vague). In this, Karofsky got outed after the wedding by an article on Jacob ben Israel's blog and punched Kurt in the school hallway ('I didn't tell'), which is what got him expelled. So he's had a year and a half to plan this. And I've put Blaine a year ahead of Kurt, so he's about to go off to college.

_Blaine turned his class ring over and over in his hand. On the bed beside him, Kurt lay propped up with pillows while he flipped through the latest issue of Vogue. He glanced at Blaine and smiled._

_"I'm going to miss you when you go," he said wistfully._

_Blaine took his hand and pressed the ring into it, curling Kurt's soft fingers around it. "Something to remember me by, then?"_

_Kurt's eyes widened. "Why, Mr. Anderson, I do believe my father would object." He grinned, snuggling closer, until their bodies were pressed side by side together._

_Blaine traced the round curve of the ring still cupped in Kurt's palm. "It'll be a promise. For later."_

Kurt was talking loudly as he, David, and Wes walked out of the movie theater.

"It was a muumuu," he huffed, crossing his arms over his chest. "It was a muumuu and it was on Helen Mirren."

Wes coughed into his hand and looked away, while David grinned openly at their friend's distress. Since Blaine was out of town, moving his things to his new dorm room, it was up   
to them to keep Kurt occupied-at least until they, themselves, left for their own schools in just a day or two.

"Was that a muumuu?" Wes asked. "I thought it looked kinda nice."

Kurt threw Wes a scandalized look. "I am going to the bathroom. Hopefully, by the time I'm back whatever has taken a hold of your poor, disillusioned brain will have gone back from whence it came." He turned and headed for the nearby bathrooms. "Nice," he scoffed.

He stopped at the sink afterwards to wash his hands. The water was the eco-friendly kind, the sort that was lukewarm and only trickled for a few seconds at a time from the spout. He made an irritated sound and waved a hand over the sensor to get the water running again. As he did, one of the stall doors opened behind him.

Karofsky's large, bulky body, reflected in the mirror, caused Kurt to freeze for only a moment before he turned to run for the door. Unfortunately, Karofsky moved faster.

"What do you want?" Kurt asked, his voice shaking with fear.

He gasped as Karofsky gripped him by the shoulder and pushed him backwards, until the two of them were crammed into one of the stalls together, Kurt half-sprawled against a toilet, his back pressed into the wall. Before he could scream or call for help, a big meaty hand clamped down over his mouth, rendering him mute.

Karofsky stared at him without saying a word. His eyes were disturbing, sharply focused and predatory. As Kurt shook under the hand holding him against the wall, Karofsky drew a finger along the line of his throat, brushed past the collar of his shirt, then let it drift back up to trace the slope of his nose. It was like they were back in the halls of McKinley, except this was so much more charged, so much more frightening.

When Karofsky let him go, he was shaking. The ex-jock turned and left, still silent. Kurt dropped onto the toilet seat and bent over, his chest heaving with panicked breaths. He had to calm to down. Wes and David couldn't know about this, and it was nothing worth scaring Blaine over. It was nothing.

His former classmates found him ten minutes later, still sitting where Karofsky had left him.

"Kurt?" Wes approached cautiously. Kurt was sitting there with one hand on his mouth, the other rubbing at his throat, and his eyes were wide and blank. "Kurt," he tried again, to better effect.

Kurt looked up and seemed to come back to himself at the sight of them. He took a deep breath and straightened up. "Hi. Where've you guys been?"

"At the kiosk," David said, holding up a soda. "I thought I'd get something for the road."

"It's been fifteen minutes," Wes said. "What are you still doing in here?"

Kurt laughed shrilly. "Oh, it's nothing."

Wes and David exchanged a look. "Kurt-" Wes tried, only to get cut off by the other boy standing up and brushing past them to go fix his hair. His eyes met Wes's in the mirror.

"Blaine can't know about this," he said. With that, he walked out of the bathroom, leaving the other two behind.

"What was that?" David asked Wes, baffled.

Wes just shook his head.

Later that night, Kurt got a text from Blaine but ignored it, curling up tight in his bed, trying to get the feel of fingers touching him out of his head.

_Sabrina moved the door again to get a better look and closed her eyes at what she saw. There were scratch marks on the inside of the door, dotted with small dark stains, as if hands had repeatedly scrabbled against the thick wood in an effort to get out. The inside of the closet was big enough for someone to stand upright but they would 've had to tuck in their legs to sit down. A few darker spots marred the floor and some of the wall._

Dave Karofsky didn't just wake up one morning knowing that he wanted Kurt Hummel. It came slowly, creeping up on him with every swish of the other boy's hips as they passed each other in the hallway, with every haughty comeback. The plan to make Hummel love him, however, did. He dreamed it one night. It was a vague dream fleshed out once he'd woken up and had time to plan.

And he had plenty of time for that. At least, until he started working. He knew Kurt wanted to go to New York because the name of the city often fell from his lips when he talked to his loser friends at school, not that Dave had been listening to their lame conversations when he went there or anything. He'd just happened to pass by a few times, is all.

To get to New York, they'd need money, so he'd busted his butt to save up. Now that he had enough money, it was time to start things up.

Dave had a spare key to Mrs. Agnew's house, so drove over early on morning and let himself inside, lugging a 24-pack of bottled water up the stairs, where he opened it up and set the little bottles under the sink. Boxes of crackers, chips, and snack cakes were already stored on the right hand side. They were just until the first few weeks passed. A person couldn't live on junk like that.

After checking the bolts on the door to Kurt's room, he went back downstairs to throw the trash in with Mrs. Agnew's. The whole bag would get dumped somewhere out of town later that night.

"You're such a good boy," Mrs. Agnew told him before he left, patting a wrinkled hand against his cheek. She didn't care that he was gay, not like his parents, who made everything awkward now.

When she turned away, he pocketed the keys to her station wagon, lifting them from the hook by the door. It was a big car with lots of trunk space.

Once home, he set his alarm for five in the morning, not too early and not too late, but couldn't sleep. His body thrummed with excitement. This could go wrong in so many ways, but if he could pull it off...well, he'd have the one thing he'd been pining over for far too long.

_Most days were good. Dave would come home, the two of them would eat dinner, maybe snuggle on the couch or have sex on it. Sometimes...sometimes he would find Kurt crying, unable to say what was wrong. He'd be in a funk for weeks and they were back to square one._

_Dave just sighed, tried to get food into him, helped him bathe, and tucked him into bed. Sex was a listless, if satisfying, affair those days. He was used to the blank stares and the limp body beneath him but missed, in those periods of unresponsiveness, what the two of them had eventually turned sex into-something hot and wild, fingernails down the back, loud and groaning._

Kurt frowned at the faint rumble coming from his car. It'd been sounding funny since he'd turned started it up back in the Dalton parking lot but hadn't given it much thought, too excited to be going home for the weekend. He was already halfway home. Just a little bit longer...

"C'mon, baby," he murmured, patting the dashboard when the car gave a sudden lurch.

Soon, though, it became all too obvious that he wasn't going to get much farther. His Navigator rolled to a stop as he pulled onto the side of the dirt road just before the engine died. Kurt thunked his head on the steering wheel and sighed. This was just great.

Eying the sinking sun, Kurt pocketed his cellphone, stepped out of the car, and hurried to pop the hood. This road was surrounded by thick clumps of trees, and every time a branch cracked, he jumped, then cursed himself for being stupid. He took this road every week. It's not like it was known for harboring dangerous criminals or something, though it would be a perfect setting for that urban legend about the guy with the hook.

Kurt shook his head to clear it of all the creepy thoughts accumulating inside and stared at the inside of his car.

What he was seeing couldn't be right. This looked deliberate.

Behind him, a twig snapped sharply and a familiar voice called his name.

Kurt whirled around to see Dave Karofsky standing on the side of the road, gun pointed right at him.

"I take it you're having car trouble."

Kurt's breath caught in his throat. "What are you going to do to me?" He didn't want to die, not out here, not so far from his Dad. Would they even find his body?

Karofksy grinned at him. "I waited a really long time for this."

He could run. He could run right now. But then he'd get shot. And Kurt really, _really_ didn't want to get shot.

'He's going to shoot anyway, once he'd done with you', a little voice whispered in his ear, but he still couldn't move. His body was frozen in place.

"Here," Karofsky suddenly said, thrusting a glass of what looked like water at him. "Drink this."

Kurt shook his head, hand creeping up to clutch at the collar of his shirt. "No."

"If you don't, I will shoot you." Karofsky's voice was calm and deliberate, his eyes steady. There wasn't a hint of anger or madness in them.

"What is it?"

"Water."

When Kurt hesitated, Karofsky waved the gun at him. The glass was warm, as if it had been setting out in the summer air for a while. Kurt nearly dropped it due to the sweat on his hand when he went to take it, but Karofsky's closed over his own and tightened his grip. He jerked away and scurried back out of reach.

The water was salty on his tongue, making him gag at the first gulp, but Karofsky still had the gun trained on him, so he tossed his head back defiantly and gulped it all down, though some spilled over his lips and trickled down his neck and into the dip of his collarbone.

Dizziness hit only moments after the last gulp. He dropped the glass somewhere at his feet, his body swaying. Karofsky watched, expression never changing, as he crashed to the ground. His stomach rolled with nausea and, even lying down, the earth tilted back and forth.

Karofsky finally stepped forward, moving quickly. He yanked off Kurt's shirt, set it on the ground, then lay his slender arm on it. Kurt whimpered when Karofsky pulled out a sharp looking pocket knife, but his movements were too weak and sluggish to get away from the first bite into his arm. Three bloody lines in all were slashed across the inside of his arm and they hurt so bad. Kurt sobbed weakly, the only thing he could do.

He'd expected Karofsky to kill him then, but the jock simply pulled the shirt out from under Kurt's arm with gloved hands and tossed it back on the ground nearby.

'So they can find it later,' Kurt thought through the flashes of pain pulsing along his arm.

Karofsky disappeared for a few moments. Kurt flopped onto his stomach and tried to crawl away but only managed to dig his fingers into the ground in front of him. Karofsky appeared again with a first aid kit in one hand. He rolled Kurt back over with his foot, then went to work on bandaging his arm.

When it was done, he lifted the smaller boy in his arms and carried him to where a station wagon sat further into the woods, hidden from the main road.

Kurt lurched forward at the sight of the open trunk ahead of them, trying to dislodge himself from Karofsky's arms, but Karofsky simply grunted and tightened his grip. He was set on a blanket, a small pillow nested under his head, then was plunged into darkness as the door closed above him.

_"I didn't get to graduate. I'm a high school dropout!"_

_"You can get a GED, you know."_

_"I wanted to sing on a stage in New York."_

_"You can still sing."_

_"Not like I used to. And-and-I wanted to go to prom."_

_Blaine's mouth twitched. "We went to an all-boys school, Kurt."_

_Kurt shot up. "We had plans, Blaine!"_

Kurt was asleep when he pulled quietly into Mrs. Agnew's garage, lights out, and came out to pop the trunk. He looked so tiny, so delicate, so lovely curled in on himself with one of his hands tucked under his chin. Dave took a moment to run a hand down the other boy's torso, feeling the solid warmth underneath his palm shudder with each breath.

Everything would be perfect now. Kurt would love him and they'd live together and be happy, just the two of them.

Dave lifted him in his arms again and carried him up the stairs. Kurt murmured once, his brow creasing with tension, and one of his legs kicked restlessly out. The wound on his arm was bleeding freely again, soaking into Dave's clothes and dripping on the floor as he walked. He'd have to do some cleaning before he left, but that was okay. Mrs. Agnew wouldn't notice either way.

In the bathroom, he gently sat Kurt down in the closet, propping him up against the wall and folding his legs a little to get him to fit. Leaning forward, Dave pressed a kiss to his captive's lips. He lingered a bit, letting his tongue lap at the soft, pliant mouth before pulling away and shutting the door.

They had plenty of time to explore each other later. Kurt would still be waiting when he got back.

He reached up for the first lock and slid the deadbolt into place.

_He could wait all he wanted, but Kurt would still be broken. He'd gotten the very thing he wanted and crushed it._


End file.
